


The Purple Dress

by Mysenia



Series: Clothes are a thing that I wear. [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-07-14
Packaged: 2018-04-09 08:20:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4341164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mysenia/pseuds/Mysenia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles couldn’t say what prompted him to do it but when he saw his mom’s dress hanging forgotten in his father’s closet, he had to put it on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Purple Dress

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little pre-Steter drabble I wrote up one day.

Stiles couldn’t say what prompted him to do it but when he saw his mom’s dress hanging forgotten in his father’s closet, he had to put it on. It fell straight on his body, no curves to emphasize it, but it felt light. It smelled faintly of memories long past and strongly of stale closet. It was purple with pink and blue flowers scattered haphazardly all over. It was his new favourite outfit.

He didn’t wear it immediately, choosing instead to hang it in his own closet for another day. It blended nicely with his array of colours, though the length of it stood out. When it caught his eye, Stiles would walk over and run his fingers down the hem. It was soft.

There was nothing special about the day he put it on and walked down the stairs, just another Thursday. He liked how it caressed his legs as he walked down the stairs.

As he aimed for the kitchen he walked passed his father who glanced up as he walked by. He saw his father do a double take and held his breath, walking the line between fretful and calm.

“That was your mom’s favourite dress.” The Sheriff said before pausing. He eyed Stiles up and down, taking in the whole of him. “You look just as wonderful in it as she did.” He smiled at Stiles and turned back to his game.

Stiles let loose the breath stuck in his throat and smiled through the mist in his eyes. “Thanks Pops.”

It warmed him all over that his father didn’t question him. They’d been through a lot and it was always reassuring to know that his relationship with his father was steady and true. He made fried egg and bacon sandwiches as a celebration of their love and acceptance of each other.

Corny though it may be, he needed it. His dad just smiled with a twinkle in his eye when Stiles set the plate down in front of him.

* * *

It was long weeks later that he slipped into that purple dress, with its blue and pink flowers. Where he slid his hands down his front, relishing the smoothness against his stomach. Where he twirled around just to feel like he was floating in his clothes.

Stepping out of his house armed with his wallet in one hand and his keys in the other, he made his way to the loft. He had the windows rolled down as he drove across town, the wind blowing freely through the cab. He laughed in delight as the dress ballooned around his legs, flipping up passed his knees and revealing his boxers below.

It was freeing in a way clothes usually weren’t.

Parking, he hopped out of the jeep and watched as the dress righted itself - gravity pulling it down. He felt very summery in his dress and sandals, he wiggled his toes for emphasis.

He went for the stairwell as he entered the building, taking the steps two at a time. He paused when a big leap caused air to flow up to his balls, unexpected for such a normal action. The dress, he forgot. He shrugged and continued to jump up the stairs, laughing as air flowed freely around his upper thighs.

Pushing his way into the loft he squared himself up, preparing to hear what had called everyone to the loft. He hoped there wasn’t any blood. His quota for dealing with blood had already been filled for the month. The buzz in the loft came to a stop, silence descending like a wave over the occupants gathered around the couch.

“Well if it isn’t Selena finally gracing us with her presence.” Isaac sneered at him from his spot beside Allison.

“Is that supposed to be an insult to women, Lahey?” Lydia glared at him.

Stiles was floored. He felt his heartbeat increase, could almost feel the blood flowing faster through his body. Heat flared bright under his arms, behind his neck, and above his brow. Sweat gathered. He was speechless. He forgot about the dress.

“Stiles, is there any particular reason you felt the need to play dress up?” Derek questioned him, the ‘idiot’ ringing clear though it was left unsaid.

Scott gaped at him, never condemning him or protecting him. Not that he needed protecting. He could wear whatever he wanted.

“Fuck you Isaac, it’s still Stiles. And Lydia? I would make a fantastic woman, to suggest less is an insult to me. And it’s not playing dress up Derek, it’s just plain wearing a dress.” Stiles struggled to control his volume. “Does anyone else have something to say or can we proceed with this meeting?” He looked around the room, making sure to make eye contact with each and every person gathered.

Peter the only one who gazed unflinchingly back.

The meeting finished quickly, largely due to his odd apparel, Stiles assumed. That was fine with him, the looks and side glances were irritating him. He made his escape the moment it wouldn’t be deemed rude. Though Stiles felt the pack could use a kick in the pants, he didn’t feel up to the task in that moment.

* * *

Arriving home, he checked his phone and found it full of apologies from the pack - even Isaac. He rolled his eyes, knowing they were only remorseful because their Alpha told them to be. He flung his phone onto the couch and headed for the kitchen, food would make him feel better.

As he was biting into his second sandwich a knock came at the door. He eyed the door speculatively, contemplating ignoring it, but his curiosity got the better of him. He opened the door to find the last person he expected on his doorstep.

“Did I forget something at the loft?” He asked, running his eyes over Peter to see if the wolf was holding anything.

Peter gave him a weird look. “No.”

“Okay?”

“You left before I could tell you something, and I felt it best said face to face.”

Stiles squinted his eyes at Peter, trying to figure out his angle. “ _Okay?_ ”

“You look lovely.” He said simply.

Stiles felt unmoored. There was no hint of mockery in Peter’s tone and his face, for once, was open and honest. Peter truly believed what he was saying.

“Thank you.” Stiles didn’t know what else to say. One hundred words ran through his head, along with questions, but he kept them to himself.

It was a rare thing to behold the former Alpha being honest about anything, and to think it was because of Stiles. Stiles scratched at the back of his neck, looking off to the side to avoid Peter’s scalding gaze. He caught the glimmer of a smile on the corner of Peter’s mouth.

“You are most welcome.” Peter nodded his head at Stiles before turning away.

Stiles watched him walking away. He still felt secure in his decision to wear his dress but Peter had just given him his armour. He closed the door and went back to his sandwich, secure in the knowledge that he had two non-judgemental, genuine supporters.

He smiled and wondered to himself if Peter would be willing to help him pick out a few more dresses. The image that conjured up had him laughing until long after his father got home. He couldn’t wait.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think.
> 
> ~ M


End file.
